You'll take back your Grand-duke? My French fought nobly with reason,-- Left many a Lombardy nook Red as with wine out of season. Little we grudged what was done there, Paid freely your ransom of blood: Our heroes stark in the sun there We would not recall if we could. You'll call back the Grand-duke? X. You'll take back your Grand-duke? His son rode fast as he got off That day on the enemy's hook, When _I_ had an epaulette shot off. Though splashed (as I saw him afar--no Near) by those ghastly rains, The mark, when you've washed him in Arno, Will scarcely be larger than Cain's. You'll call back the Grand-duke? XI. You'll take back your Grand-duke? 'T will be so simple, quite beautiful: The shepherd recovers his crook, ... If you should be sheep, and dutiful. I spoke a word worth chalking On Milan's wall--but stay, Here's Poniatowsky talking,-- You'll listen to _him_ to-day, And call back the Grand-duke. XII. You'll take back your Grand-duke? Observe, there's no one to force it,-- Unless the Madonna, Saint Luke Drew for you, choose to endorse it. _I_ charge you, by great Saint Martino And prodigies quickened by wrong, Remember your Dead on Ticino; Be worthy, be constant, be strong-- Bah!--call back the Grand-duke!! FOOTNOTES: [14] The Italian tricolor: red, green, and white. CHRISTMAS GIFTS. ~hos basilei, hos theps, hos nekrps.~ GREGORY NAZIANZEN. I. The Pope on Christmas Day Sits in Saint Peter's chair; But the peoples murmur and say "Our souls are sick and forlorn, And who will show us where Is the stable where Christ was born?" II. The star is lost in the dark; The manger is lost in the straw; The Christ cries faintly ... hark!... Through bands that swaddle and strangle-- But the Pope in the chair of awe Looks down the great quadrangle. III. The Magi kneel at his foot, Kings of the East and West, But, instead of the angels (mute Is the "Peace on earth" of their song), The peoples, perplexed and opprest, Are sighing "How long, how long?" IV. And, instead of the kine, bewilder in Shadow of aisle and dome, The bear who tore up the children, The fox who burnt up the corn, And the wolf who suckled at Rome Brothers to slay and to scorn. V. Cardinals left and right of him, Worshippers round and beneath, The silver trumpets at sight of him Thrill with a musical blast: But the people say through their teeth, "Trumpets? we wait for the Last!" VI. He sits in the place of the Lord, And asks for the gifts of the time; Gold, for the haft of a sword To win back Romagna averse, Incense, to sweeten a crime, And myrrh, to embitter a curse. VII.